An Incident Best Forgotten
by GoldenVine
Summary: A slight mishap leads to embarrassment, a jealous Sherlock and a newfound relationship but what exactly did happen to make Molly blush so badly? T for nakedness.


**A/N - Well hello again! This is a long one-shot that I started ages ago and couldn't finish but now thanks to the help of the wonderful, flaignhan, I have finished it! Seriously, she was brilliant! Anyway, lots of humour and jealous!Sherlock, Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer - Sadly, I regret to inform you that I do not own Sherlock.**

Molly Hooper lay in her bed one chilly January morning and gazed at the naked consulting detective lying beside her. He was sound asleep and Molly couldn't help but wonder how she'd ended up here. Well, of course she knew exactly how she ended up here and it was a story she did not care to remember.

XXX

It was the 12th of October, 3 years after Sherlock's 'death' and one month after his 'resurrection', and Molly had a problem. John had invited her to a dinner party to celebrate Sherlock's resurrection, as the tabloids had so eloquently dubbed it, and she simply did not want to go.

It wasn't that she didn't like John. He was a charming man even if he did have a penchant for jumpers that her granddad would be proud of, although Molly supposed she couldn't really speak on that department. No, it wasn't John, it was more…the other guests that had Molly in a tizzy. She didn't even know who was going as John's text was ambiguous at best.

Hey Molls, having a small get together. Tomorrow 7pm, Baker Street. Hope you can come. JWx

Just how small exactly was that? Oh, she really hoped _he_ wasn't there. Especially not after…No, she definitely could not face him. She had to go though, didn't she? She owed it to John after all she wasn't completely innocent in Sherlock's fake suicide.

XXX

"_What do you need?"_

"_You."_

_Molly was almost certain that the world had stopped spinning, the universe had frozen and time was running backwards. Molly had no answer for that. All she could do was blink and stare back at him with a look of utter disbelief. 'Me? He needs me? What does he need me for? Well, it's obviously not for that….although. No, Molly stop being stupid', she thought. Molly was snapped form her stupor by a deep baritone voice just that little bit to close to her already crimson face._

"_As I was saying, you need not do anything more than sign my death certificate and then take a few days off work to help me. I have already given you a cover story and I'm quite sure Mycroft will take care of the rest. Agreed?"_

"_Uh…yes, of course." Molly stammered, thankful that her mouth was at least cooperating with her brain._

_And that was it._

_She, the lowly pathologist, had helped he, the great consulting detective, fake his own death. However, she was soon to realize that signing the death certificate was in fact the easy part._

XXX

Molly was shocked by the sudden high pitched ringing of her phone. Ah, the taxi was here great no backing out now. She fixed her make-up for the umpteenth time and straightened her blouse. She had gone for casual chic this time with a deep purple blouse (which she was not wearing to match a certain persons shirt she told herself) and high-waisted jeans. All in all, she felt more like Molly and less like a dressed up shop mannequin like she had at that Christmas party all those years ago. She grabbed her jacket and bag and made sure to lock her door behind her. She slipped into the taxi quickly so as to avoid the worst of the October chill.

"Where to love?" asked the cabbie.

"221b Baker Street, please."

As Molly watched the streets roll past she couldn't help but recall the last time she had seen Sherlock.

XXX

"_Sherlock! What do you mean I have to live with your brother?" Molly protested as she shimmied out of the sleek black town car to join Sherlock._

"_I need my pathologist to help me and really Molly, Moriarty's men will suspect you by now. They may even figure out that you have helped me in some capacity. Surprisingly, they are not as thick as they look. It is in the best interests of everyone, now come on!" _

_Molly walked quickly up the path to catch up with Sherlock's long strides as he made his way to a rather mediocre block of flats. They were situated in a lovely part of London and it looked very high class, probably very expensive as well, but Molly had been expecting something a bit grander. She had only met Mycroft twice but she knew from those short glimpses of him that he was rather fond of theatrics._

_As soon as they were through the door a short, elder gentleman, Molly refused to say butler, took their bags and ushered them through to a large lounge area. Sherlock immediately made his excuses and left leaving Molly on her own in a stranger's house. Typical, she thought as she looked around the room. There were two comfortable looking armchairs facing a rustic fireplace, one of which had a small footstool. A few items were dotted around the room at strategic intervals; a globe with a metal stand; an oak writing desk and a very pretty oriental tapestry, to name a few. Molly wandered over to an exquisite vase that was sitting on the floor next to the bay window at the far end of the room. She touched it lightly and absently wondered where it came from._

"_I would not touch that if I were you, Doctor Hooper," Molly jumped instantly and lifted her hand, "It is Ming Dynasty" voiced Mycroft as he entered the room and closed the door softly behind him._

"_Please take a seat" he said indicating the armchair without the footstool. As Molly sat down he began to speak, "I believe you will be wondering why you are here?"_

"_Uhm, no, actually. Sherlock explained. Safety and stuff" Molly replied meekly._

"_Of course. I'm sorry if this stay inconveniences you. I assure you there will be full compensation."_

_Compensation for what? Molly wanted to ask but instead replied with a quiet okay._

"_Now, I assume you have questions?" Mycroft asked._

"_Actually yes, uhm, how long will I be here?"_

"_Three days. Four at the maximum."_

"_Oh okay, and where exactly am I staying?" Molly added quickly._

"_This is my private residency. I prefer somewhere small to seek solace, as I'm sure you are aware, my job is rather important to the country. I like to have somewhere I can relax. There are three bedrooms on the second floor, all with their own en suite bathroom. Is that all Doctor Hooper?"_

"_Yes, I think so. Oh, and please call me Molly."_

"_Alright, Molly. If that is all I must be going. I shall see you at dinner. Jeremy, my butler, will show you to your room."_

XXX

Molly opened the front door of 221 Baker Street and gingerly stepped inside. She shrugged off her bulky winter coat and smoothed down her blouse. The kitten heels she had chosen were perfect for giving her extra height and also for walking in, unlike her chosen footwear from _that _Christmas that she discarded half way home as they were already giving her blisters. Molly smiled and made her way up the stairs to the inviting glow that was emanating from the door of 221b.

Her grin increased as she heard laughter and the clinking of glasses. She thought she could hear the voices of Mrs. Hudson, John and Greg. _Good, he's not here then, _she thought as she made her way into the cozy flat.

"Hi everyone, sorry I'm late" beamed Molly.

"No, not at all Molls. It's good to see you!" exclaimed John hugging her tightly, "I'll get you a drink. Red or white?"

"Oh, white please."

"Coming right up! Take a seat" John shouted as he made his way into the kitchen.

Moly chose to sit next to Mrs. Hudson and Greg as she certainly wasn't sitting next to Sherlock who for one, hadn't said hello to her and two, was looking rather pensive stroking his violin in the corner. _No change there then. _He didn't do well in social situations she recalled.

Molly accepted her white wine and was soon participating in a lovely, easy conversation with her four friends, well three of them anyway.

"Someone's coming John." Sherlock interrupted bluntly.

"Huh, I didn't think he'd come" mused John.

_He'd _come? Who is _he_? Molly wanted to voice her silent questions but knew it was only her paranoia. _Oh goodness, my palms have gone all sweaty. _He probably has better things to do what with his job and everything. Was that the clicking of an umbrella? _Paranoia, Molly, paranoia._

"Hello everyone" said Mycroft Homes in a controlled but polite tone.

If Molly had been even slightly religious she would have prayed to every god going that this wasn't happening but even Molly could not deny her own eyes. The sight of his ridiculously shiny polished shoes were enough to send a light blush across her cheeks.

A blush that did not go unnoticed by a slightly confused consulting genius.

XXX

_On the morning of her last day at Mycroft's comfy but insanely posh abode Molly decided it was about time that she tried out that glorious looking shower in her guest bathroom. Molly was keen to take a shower in what she had been informed was a 'waterfall' shower. It sounded wonderful whatever it was and if Molly was only to be here one more day then she might as well take advantage of it. Molly discarded her clothes and changed into her bathrobe on the way to her en suite. Once inside she was faced with quite a problem. _

_The shower had four knobs on it and one big dial but no indication of what any of them did. Great, Molly thought, as she turned knobs and twisted dials but to no avail. She'd have to ask Jeremy._

_She made her way out of her room and down the corridor in search of him but couldn't find him anywhere. She didn't want to stay out in her bathrobe any longer so walked across the corridor and knocked on the door of the man who had brought her here in the first place. There was no reply after she had knocked twice so Molly opened the door cautiously, the last time she had interrupted him there was a shoe flung at the door that narrowly missed her head. _

"_Sherlock?" she called as she entered his room._

_The man himself was lying languidly on his bed and merely raised an eyebrow to Molly's bath-robed appearance, "Yes?"_

"_I, uh, can't get the shower to work."_

"_Have you tried switching it on?" Sherlock retorted._

"_Yes. Of course I have. But there's all these knobs and switches and stuff and I don't know what to press to switch it on."_

"_Not my problem find Jeremy."_

"_I tried but I can't find him."_

"_What day is it?" Sherlock inquired._

"_Sunday why?"_

"_It's his day off. Use Mycroft's shower. I believe he is downstairs in a meeting or something."_

"_I can't use Mycroft's!" Molly shrieked._

"_Why not?"_

"_Because...because…" Molly stammered._

"_Precisely. Now go. I need to think." Sherlock huffed turning his back to Molly._

_Moly backed out of his room and groaned, what was she supposed to do now?_

XXX

Molly was mortified and she suspect that Mycroft was feeling a tad embarrassed himself. At least he had the decency to not sit beside her, avoid eye contact and effectively ignore her completely; which suited Molly just fine. Now, however, she could not avoid him any longer as they had been seated opposite each other at the makeshift dining table in 221b.

She sat staring at the bowl of soup in front of her hoping that it would provide some distraction from the burning in her cheeks.

He cleared his throat, "Could you pass me the bread please?"

The bread was beside her. _Why?_ She groaned internally as she picked up the bowl of bread and passed it across the table to Mycroft as quickly as she could. She did unfortunately catch his eye during the exchange and was surprised to see that he was a little flushed around the edges as well. It would seem that he hadn't forgotten the little mishap although she really wished that he had. The image was still ingrained in her memory and she doubted it would be leaving any time soon.

XXX

_It was a while before Molly came across a maid and enquired about the shower in her room. The gist of it was that Molly could use the shower in Mycroft's room because hers wasn't actually working but did she really want to use his shower? Apparently she didn't have the choice as the maid ushered her into Mycroft's en suite and turned the shower on for her. The maid quickly left shutting the bathroom door behind her._

_Well, it would be a shame to waste it Molly decided as she dropped her bathrobe onto the peg beside the door and hopped into the shower._

_It was everything she had expected and more. The water sprayed at her body and eased away all her stress and worry about the last week's terrible event. She was thankful that the water was blisteringly hot, just how she liked it, and the bathroom quickly steamed up so that it no longer resembled a bathroom but more a sauna._

_Molly suddenly found herself wondering if the compensation Mycroft had mentioned would pay for a new shower._

XXX

Sherlock was getting gradually more agitated as the evening dragged on and despite what John might think, it was not to do with having to be social. It was in fact to do with Molly Hooper and his brother and if truth be told, it unnerved him. What was going on between them? Mycroft had asked for the bread and then hardly touched it. Sudden loss of appetite? Most certainly not. Mycroft Holmes never lost his appetite.

Then there was the blushing. Both Mycroft and Molly were a little pink in the cheeks. Any normal person would say it was to do with the heat in 221b but he was far from being a normal person.

Aha! He had it, Molly and Mycroft were romantically engaged. Sherlock glared at his brother, how could he? He knew that Molly was _his_ pathologist and now he'd just swanned in and marked her with his scent, so to speak. Something in the dark depths of Sherlock's mind palace began to rouse and it wasn't happy as it roared and flicked it's beastly tail. But it was not logical. _Why would Molly, who is so obviously infatuated with me, go for Mycroft instead?_

He found that logical reasoning was often lacking in matters to do with Molly Hooper. He could find no reason why he had stored the useless anecdotes about her life she would regale him with in the morgue, or how he preferred her hair to be down and flowing around her shoulders, or how she smelt like vanilla and lemons if you were close enough to smell her. They were unnecessary facts about Molly Hooper yet he had retained them anyway.

He looked to Molly and found her giggling under her breath and fiddling with her hands the way she does when he compliments her. Then he looked quickly to Mycroft who was staring across at Molly's…breasts. NO! That was it! He would not allow this behavior to carry on. Molly was _his_ pathologist and Mycroft could not have her. Something had to be done.

Sherlock stood up quickly from his seat at the table and exclaimed with a bang of his fist, "MYCROFT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO _MY _PATHOLOGIST?"

XXX

_Mycroft was sitting in his study after coming off a rather taxing video conference. Apparently he was the only competent man in the British Government. He groaned loudly and cracked his stiff neck. He knew what he needed and it was going to be marvelous. He'd called a maid and got them to start the water for him so by the time he got into the bathroom it would be gloriously steamy and the stress of the phone call would just melt away._

_Mycroft smiled to himself on the way up the stairs, yes a shower was just what he needed._

_He opened the door to the en suite to be greeted by a wall of steam. He sighed happily taking off his jacket and folding it over the toilet seat. His tie, shirt and trousers came off in quick succession and he was ready to enjoy his shower._

_Molly was just finishing off rubbing shampoo, the expensive salon stuff, into her hair when she heard the curtain being drawn back._

XXX

"W-what?" Mycroft sputtered as he stared up at Sherlock's thunderous expression.

"You know exactly what I mean. How long have you been having sex with Molly?"

This time it was Molly's turn to look embarrassed as she spat her wine across the table, "S-Sherlock, what on earth?"

"Oh, don't try to hide it Molly, it's really rather obvious." Sherlock spat as he ranted about his observations.

The table was completely silent as Sherlock finished his tirade. A stunned John and Greg looking from Molly to Mycroft and then to Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson had found that her cardigan had suddenly become rather interesting and the accused faces were both as red as each other.

Mycroft cleared his throat, "You are mistaken brother."

"Oh, really. Do tell me how I am mistaken?" snapped Sherlock.

"I and Doctor Hooper are not in a romantic relationship." Mycroft said desperately trying to calm his burning face.

"So, it was a one off affair was it?"

"No."

"Oh, I see. Friends with benefits. Is that what you're calling it? Molly, I wouldn't have thought you-"

"We are not anything Sherlock!" Molly said as she cradled her head in her hands.

"You are quite obviously something. I am never wrong." Sherlock retorted.

Molly mumbled something into her hands, "What was that Molly?"

Molly mumbled again, "Really Molly you shouldn't mumble. What is it?" pressed Sherlock.

"I saw Mycroft naked ok!" Molly cried exasperatedly and then immediately regretted her confession as the table settled into a shocked silence.

The silence was broken by a rather loud coughing fit from John's end as he choked on the water he had been drinking.

"Mycroft, why did Molly see you naked? If you have-"

"It was an accident Sherlock," Molly stated, "I was in the shower and Mycroft didn't know and well…" Molly trailed off as she took a large gulp of her wine.

"Mycroft, did you or did you not see Molly naked as well?" Sherlock asked calmly.

Mycroft looked down and did not answer. Of course he had and his brother knew it. He had tried a good many times to delete the image but once seen, never forgotten, he thought.

Sherlock took Mycroft's silence as an affirmative. He growled and sneered at his brother then stormed off into his bedroom.

"How dare Mycroft see _my_ pathologist naked!" _Before me, _he added silently although he would never admit to it.

With Sherlock safely in his room Mycroft decided that this would be a good time to depart. After thanking John for the meal he said a curt goodbye to them all and made his way out of the door. He breathed in the cool winter air and prayed that he would not have to see Doctor Hooper for a very long time.

Back inside 221b it was very quiet except for the occasional deep breath and clinking of glass.

"Well, if I didn't know any better. I'd say that the giant man-child is jealous," chuckled Greg in an attempt break the ice but which only made Molly's blush worse.

XXX

Suffice to say Molly was grateful when two weeks later Sherlock barged into the morgue and announced that there needed to be a change on the nature of their relationship.

Molly giggled as she remembered the way he had set out the terms of their relationship, like a business agreement she had told him.

"Molly?" groaned a sleepy Sherlock.

"Yes?" Molly answered brushing an errant curl from his forehead.

"Go back to sleep."

Molly smiled and placed a soft peck to his cheek before curling into him and drifting off.

She may have to live with the image of Mycroft Holmes naked but waking up next to a naked Sherlock Holmes more than made up for that.

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